


Warmer Than Antivan Sun

by broodywolf



Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-25
Updated: 2015-12-25
Packaged: 2018-05-09 08:29:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 925
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5532593
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/broodywolf/pseuds/broodywolf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Zevran keeps the Warden warm on a cold, snowy night. </p>
<p>My gift for geekdomgalor on tumblr for the DA Secret Santa :D</p>
            </blockquote>





	Warmer Than Antivan Sun

"Mythal's tits it's cold out there!" Lyna cursed, ducking quickly into her tent and shutting the flaps against the blizzard outside.

 

Zevran, predictably, was already waiting for her, lounging on her bedroll propped on one elbow. He wore only a loose tunic and fitted trousers, his armor sitting neatly in the corner of the tent. He smirked at her language as he rolled fluidly to his feet, immediately putting his deft hands to work divesting her of her armor.

 

As soon as he'd finished with the armor, he reached to also remove the layers of clothing she wore underneath.

 

"Are you crazy?" she hissed. "It's bloody freezing! I'll do whatever you want, just let me keep my sweater on."

 

"You will warm up more easily if we can share body heat. Which, alas, we cannot do through all those layers." Hands on her hips, he pulled her closer, and he gave a quick tug at the thick sweater she wore, smirking, and arched an eyebrow at her.

 

"But I'll freeze!"

 

"Do you not trust me, amor?" Zevran purred, impossibly warm fingers tracing up the curve of her neck, her cheek. She leaned into the touch.

 

"Of course I do, Zev," she breathed.

 

"Then allow me to help."

 

She gave him her very best I-still-think-you're-crazy look, but allowed him to remove her sweater. He chuckled at her exaggerated shiver and moved on to the next layer.

 

When she stood before him in nothing but her smalls, he gave her a warm smile and gestured towards the scant pieces of fabric.

 

"Those, too," he said with a devilish grin.

 

"Oh for the love of…" Lyna sighed, exasperated, but tugged them off.

 

The smile she was awarded with filled Zevran's face, and she wondered idly if the warmth of that smile alone might be enough to bring some life back into her numbed fingers.

 

"Now," he said, "under those furs."

 

She complied readily, still shivering as she slipped into the bedroll.

 

His hands travelled slowly, teasingly to the edge of his tunic, a hint of a smirk resting on his face. He maintained eye contact with her as he eased the tunic up, inch by inch, and over his head. The promise in his eyes brought a flush to her cheeks that had nothing to do with the chill. Zevran's leggings were the next to go, and he stepped out of them with more grace than anyone had the right to have. She was often glad for Zev's love of undressing her himself, as she could never manage to mimic the fluidity of his motions.

 

But then Zevran stood bare before her, and all such idle thoughts were driven from her head. He lingered several moments longer than necessary before joining her in the bedroll, smirking as she appreciated the view.

 

When he slipped under the furs behind her, pulling her in close, her back to his chest, she could instantly appreciate the genius of his plan. He was a _furnace._

 

"Creators, how are you so warm?" she said, leaning into him to close any space left between them. She could feel the slight rumble in his chest as he chuckled in response, arms tightening around her waist.

 

"They say that all Antivans carry a piece of the hot Antivan sun within them," he murmured. "Or maybe they do not. Maybe it is just me!" he added, a hint of laughter brightening his voice.

 

"Well, either way I'm glad of it," she said.

 

"I would think that, being Dalish, you would be accustomed to the cold, no?"

 

"Well, yes and no. We would of course be out in the cold often enough, but in the winter we'd fill the aravels with furs, and we'd have each other to keep warm. On the solstice we would build a huge bonfire, and everyone would crowd around it and sing and dance, and we'd stay up until the sun rose."

 

"You miss them," Zevran said, stating rather than asking.

 

"Of course I do," she said, willing herself not to fall into the melancholy that often overtook her when she thought overmuch of her clan.

 

"I may be a poor replacement for your aravels and all your clan around you, but I hope I can help you stay warm all the same," he said, sadness tinting his voice.

 

"Hmmm, you have no idea, Zev. You're amazing," she hummed, looking over her shoulder to smile at him, letting her eyes fall shut as she appreciated the warmth.

 

As Zevran slid a hand up her side, tracing the curve of her breast with one thumb, she felt a different sort of heat building inside her.

 

"You know, I do know of some _other_ ways of keeping warm," he said, breath hot against her neck as he spoke.

 

"Oh, really?" she laughed.

 

He hummed in assent, tracing open-mouthed kisses along her jaw.

 

"You'll have to show me, then," she said, raising an eyebrow at him over her shoulder.

 

"Oh, I will," he said in a voice full of promise, and she felt his smile against her neck as his hands trailed lower.

 

As Zevran's hands found their mark, the howling of the wind outside faded beyond her awareness.

 

And as Zevran moved against her, his steady, languorous thrusts filled her with heat down to her toes, warming her more surely than even the Antivan sun could have done.

 

The blizzard raged on outside the tent, but the world could freeze solid for all she was able to care. She wouldn't be cold again that night.


End file.
